LXXVIII.
Thus to a mind by sacred Truth impressed
Nature at all times is an open book,
And he who reads aright is truly blest.
But ah, how much her teachings we overlook!
One who his Scripture Guide has quite forsook
Makes her an idol, and her praises sings
In warmest strains; he hears in every nook
Of her domain a thousand different things
Proclaim her Godship, which to him much pleasure brings.
LXXIX.
Another, dreaming he is taught of God,
Will hardly deign to look on her sweet face.
His feet may press the flower-bespangled sod,
But to admire the carpet would disgrace
A mind so holy, and perhaps displace
Far better thoughts which rise within his breast!
In such a one 'twere difficult to trace
The influence of Truths sublime expressed
By our Great Master in discourse to us addressed.
LXXX.
As on most questions, mine's the middle view,
And looks on all creation as the work
Of God All-wise, most kind and mighty too.
This frees my mind from all vain thoughts which lurk
In its recesses, dissipates the murk
Of idol worship and religious pride,
And makes me proof 'gainst each insidious quirk
Thrown out by those who do my views deride;
Whose judgment seems to me from truth and reason wide.
LXXXI
In musings deep or Lively conversation,
The time flies quickly as our friends draw near
Their woodland home, which, after separation
So long from those it holds, is still more dear.
Anon, friends' farms successively appear,
And at Luth's house they stop to rest awhile
Themselves and team. There they lack not good cheer
Nor kindly welcome, shown by many a smile
From man and wife, a loving pair quite free from guile.
LXXXII.
From Luth they learned all their dear folks were well,
And this relieved them from anxiety;
So now with grateful hearts awhile they dwell
Upon those themes which dear to Saints should be—
Spoke of the love displayed so lavishly
In journeying mercies, wheresoe'er they went;
Of good accomplished—though with modesty—
By them as instruments most timely sent;
And thus an hour or two was profitably spent.
LXXXIII.
Ere very long they reached their own abode—
That Nest well lined with Love, Content and Peace,
Where true home feelings in each bosom glowed,
And solid comforts day by day increase,
Bidding quite fair to last till life shall cease.
This their return the trusty dogs first hear,
And they by joyous barking rouse the geese,
The ducks and poultry, which in chorus clear
At once their voices raise, dreaming that harm is near.
LXXXXIV.
The household listen to the noise outside
A few short moments, when the youngest son
Struck by a pleasant thought could not abide
Longer suspense, but in a trice begun
To don his hat and gloves, both quickly done.
He hurries forth and by fair Luna's gleam
His eyes beheld what made him faster run
To bid the loved ones welcome, and the team
To house, and give such food as he may fittest deem.
LXXXV.
The two well loaded with their traveling gear,
Make for the cottage fast as they can go.
There the three females cheerfully appear
Determined they a welcome will bestow
Such as most virtuous minds alone can show.
Sweet smiles bedeck the mother's comely face,
The daughters too with joy are all aglow,
Quite pleased to have a kiss or warm embrace
From those they love so well at such a time and place.
LXXXVI.
Reader, dost thou possess imagination?
If so, just use that precious faculty
And join with me in making observation
On love scenes drawn from this dear family.
Thou art no eavesdropper, but yet I see
An interest sparkling in thy earnest face
Which shows thy heart doth go along with me
As I such secrets do my best to trace
And hold them up to view to benefit my race.
LXXXVII.
Imagine then the cordial reception
That I above have feebly tried to paint.
My picture has the charm of no deception—
A thing of which there's oft not much complaint.
Behold this loving band without restraint
Gathered mound the evening's social board,
Each in such frame of mind as seems a Saint,
Even in their eating honoring the Lord,
As they with temperance use whate'er their means afford.
LXXXVIII.
The father in most truly Pastoral style
Spoke of the dangers they had just passed through;
Dwelt on the English settler's death awhile.
And the sweet conduct of the widow, too,
Until the listeners had enough to do
To calm their feelings and restrain their fears.
Their sympathy was pure, to nature true,
Which made them deeply feel the griefs and fears
Of fellow mortals; and their father's heart it cheers.
LXXXIX.
He next informed them of the low sunk state
Of that new village where he meetings held.
How some few men were snatched from drunkard's fate,
How drink's most worthless traffic had been quelled,
And prejudice by force of Truth dispelled.
Next of their visit to the Indian tribe;
Told who received the Truth and who repelled
Its influx to their souls and Satan's bribe
Received, which did of Life Eternal them deprive.
XC.
The wolf adventure and Inebriate's case
Received due notice and called loud for praise
To Him whose hand they could-so clearly trace,
Who had most kindly cared for them always.
Then the Doxology at once they raise
To the "Old Hundred," the immortal air,
The clear, full harmony of which displays
Such skill that mortals now may well despair
Of making better tune though they have talents rare.
XCI.
This done once more they read God's holy Word,
Choosing such portion as their minds may suit.
Then in great reverence kneel with full accord,
And fervent pray, though all save one are mute.
Are there who deem such acts of no repute?
Sad is their state, for they have nothing learned
As well worth learning. Will they this dispute?
Alas, poor sinners, you are not concerned
That you have Christ refused and thus your soul's good spurned.
XCII.
We'll draw the curtain while the family sleep—
Such sleep as pure contentment ever brings;
And while good Angels, o'er them vigils keep,
Let's pause a little that my rude harp's strings
May be drawn tighter, that my Muse her wings
Afresh may plume, ere she completes her song
For she has yet to sing of pleasant things
And the reverse, so she must needs be strong
To execute her task as time fast flies along.
XCIII.
The occasion I will take to introduce
More fully to my patient reader's view
This worthy household; which will be of use
In after scenes, as I my tale renew.
Joseph, the eldest, we have seen was true
To God and Nature in some trials great:
Much like his father year by year he grew
Until he reached to manhood's full estate;
In manners humble, and in preaching gifts first rate.
XCIV.
William, the younger, was not quite so grave;
As kind in heart, but still more blithe and free;
Quite serious on occasions and most brave,
There were few youths more loveable than he.
In Sunday school 'twas his delight to be,
There he still led the singing and took part
In teaching children the "great Mystery"
Of gospel truth, and many a childish heart
Felt that the loss of him would yield unceasing smart.
XCV.
The sisters, younger still, I must compare
To two fair roses very lately blown;
Who, though they lived in the woods, were debonair
As any town's girls I have ever known.
Their skill in housewifery was clearly shown
In the discharge of all their household duties.
They both had voices of the sweetest tone—
Not shrill nor harsh, but more like what the flute is,
And were by all who saw them looked upon as beauties.
XCVI.
But those were naught compared with Faith and Love
Possessed by both, evinced by all their acts;
And nothing pleased them better than to prove
That pure Religion never aught subtracts
From real enjoyment, as is shown by facts
Which all who can may read if so inclined.
'Tis true our Father evermore exacts
Complete obedience, but our hearts refined
By the Spirit through the Truth know all's in love designed.
XCVII.
Clarissa and Louisa were the names
Bestowed upon these daughters at their birth,
And 'twas foretold by some attendant dames
That each when grown would have uncommon worth.
This prophecy gave rise to harmless mirth
In after years, and led the girls to say
That in their conduct there should be no dearth
Of loveliness, for fear it should betray
The fame of those good dames still living in their day.
XCVIII.
"Surely those parents must have been well off!"
Some reader may exclaim in scorn or jest;
But if 'twere not so there's no need to scoff,
And if it were I have the truth expressed.
Mine eyes have seen some parents quite as blest
In all their offspring, and I hope to see
My own dear children in their day attest
That what I write is true, and ever be
A loving, happy band and useful family.
XCIX.
I have an aim in making this digression,
Can anyone divine what it may be?
Though not a Papist I will make confession
And clear at once the seeming mystery.
Luth had a son now grown to man's degree,
Who made proposals for Clarissa's hand,
And GOODWORTH thought for aught that he could see
It was not well their wishes to withstand,
So let things take the way they were already planned.
C.
And Joseph, wishing not to be behind
His darling sister, cast about his eyes
And soon found one possessing generous mind,
Whose fund of worth proved his selection wise.
Her name methinks the reader may surmise,
For it was Ruth and also Luth, a maid
Who did prepare for matrimonial ties
In prayerful spirit, and who ne'er betrayed
That love of coquetry by many girls displayed.
CI.
Both these young folks had followed the example
Of worthy parents, and as Christians stood
In that young Church. Their worldly means were ample
At least for such as wed from motives good.
Besides if needful they could earn their food,
Which made their marriage prospects bright and cheering,
Things thus far settled they did all they could
To haste the nuptials, and grew more endearing
As the auspicious day drew nearer its appearing.
CII.
Again the Sabbath day came duly round,
And Goodworth met his flock with heartfelt joy.
Once more he faithful preached "the joyful sound,"
Or taught the Saints sin's fetters to destroy,
And how their time and talents to employ.
Then just before the "Breaking of the Bread"
He of his journey spoke in manner coy,
And deep attention by the Church was paid
As he recounted mercies sent by Christ their Head.
CIII.
Upon the work especial stress he laid,
Begun by God amongst the poor Red Men,
And moved by sacred zeal he boldly said
That something must be done; but how or when
Was for the Church to say. As he stood then
Chosen of God and them to oversee,
His little flock, he could not go again
Without depriving some of Ministry
Most needful at that time if he would faithful be.
CIV.
He further said it was a settled thing
With him that if the Holy Spirit call
One to the Pastorship, no good could spring
From frequent absence, for the Church needs all
His time and talents; and should ill befall
A flock so left God might the question ask,
"Why didst thou leave my sheep and lambs at all?
I placed thee there; attend thou to the task
If in my smiles approving thou wouldst wish to bask!"
CV.
He cited many texts to prove his view,
[Footnote: See at least one amongst many in I Peter, V, 1-4]
And felt much grieved some Churches in our day
Should to their interest be seldom true,
And Pastors for slight causes turn away.
From personal observation he would say
That many men who make a great profession
Begrudge the mite so needful as the pay
Of those whose Pastoral worth's their sole possession;
Who could not wink at sin nor make undue concession.
CVI
"Some folks, again," he said, "quite overlook
The nature of the office as laid down
For Churches' guidance in the holy Book,
And substitute opinions of their own.
Such meet their fellow Christians with a frown
If they insist upon the Scripture plan,
And deem him little better than a clown
Who has the courage their false views to scan:
And should he not desist might place him under ban."
CVII.
"Thus saith the Lord, in all religious matters,
As the thing; needful should our minds impress.
We've naught to do with the unseemly tatters
Of creeds and ceremonials on which stress
Is laid by many who the Truth profess.
The Scriptures teach that Pastors should take heed
To all their flock, that faith and holiness
May grow apace; that they the sheep should feed
With Heaven-inspired food according to their need."
CVIII.
"But Churches for most part make choice of him
Who does a splendid preaching talent show;
Or else they seek to gratify some whim
Lest hearers should their purse strings tighter draw.
'Tis easy for one taught of God to show
That those so chosen cannot well fulfill
True Pastoral duty, which consists, we know,
In oversight according to God's will—
Not Lords o'er his inheritance, but humble still."
[Footnote: The author would not like to be misunderstood. All he intends to say is that a talent for preaching, however good, is not the only qualification for Elder or Pastor. See I Tim. iii and Tit. i.]
CIX.
The Church agreed in what the Pastor said
And Luth suggested that young GOODWORTH might
Act as Evangelist in his father's stead,
Should he 'fore God consider it quite right.
Joseph assured them it was his delight
To aid in any way his Master's cause,
But thought that all should seek for further light
By fervent prayer, and therefore Would propose
To leave it unto Him from whom all wisdom flows.
CX.
This as determined on and they attended
Unto the "Supper of the Lord" in love.
Once more their Sacrifice of Praise ascended
From grateful hearts unto their God above,
Who heard it all and did such acts approve.
Refreshed in soul once more they separate
In friendly manner, as it does behove
The joint possessors of such blessings great
As heirs of bliss and glory in a future state.
CXI.
Throughout the week the members freely gave
Unto this subject due consideration;
And Joseph looked, to anxious friends, more grave,
Was oft in prayer or wrapped in contemplation.
The father, who of this made observation,
Encouraged him to frankly speak his mind.
This led them soon to mutual explanation
And fuller confidence, which all combined
To lead them both to be unto God's will resigned.
CXII.
It caused a struggle in that parent's breast
To part with one grown dearer every day;
And Joseph at the first felt quite distressed
At leaving friends so very far away.
As was but natural, thoughts of wedding day
Would also cross his mind and make him sigh;
But yet he felt determined to display
True Christian courage and himself deny,
If to his fellow men 'twould bring Redemption nigh.
CXIII.
The father; saw no very great occasion
For much of self-denial in the case.
The Bride-expectant would with small persuasion
Share any trials he might have to face.
Besides the Indians would prepare a place
With needful comforts, should he there remain.
'Twas therefore his advice to seek for Grace,
Such as the work demanded, and thus gain
The glorious Reward which faithful ones obtain.
CXIV.
To this the son made not the least objection,
And so the matter stood till next Lord's Day,
When, as the Church approved of the selection,
Much unfeigned love the all to him display;
Rejoicing to see one so young obey
Duty's strong impulse, and to God commend
Their much loved brother, who without delay
Made preparation that ere the week's end
He might the Indians reach and to his work attend.
CXV.
At the reformed Inebriate's house he called
In passing, and was truly glad to find
The man his vice inveterate had controlled,
And was improving daily in his mind.
He owned that had his wife not proved most kind
He might have been again to drinking drove.
This Joseph hears, but hopes the pledge he signed
Would be some safeguard if he should lack love;
Yet urged him much to seek for help from God above.
CXVI.
To miss the swamp he took another road
Not so direct, but pleasanter by far.
Most holy feelings in his bosom glowed
As he gazed on the glittering Evening Star.
The sleighing good, such traveling was no bar
To his sweet musings as he nearer drew
Unto the village where he had to war
With heathen darkness, and for aught he knew,
Where trials great and many might his steps pursue.
CXVII.
On his arrival joy sincere was felt
By those who had the Gospel's sound regarded.
These in full council passed the Wampum Belt,
And by their confidence his zeal rewarded.
None had the influence of Truth discarded
Who first professed by it to be made free,
And 'twas their wish, since nothing now retarded,
To be baptized with due solemnity,
That those who disbelieved might their obedience see.
CXVIII.
The Preacher this performed by full immersion
Of the whole body in the deep blue lake,
And none but those who evidenced conversion
Did of that holy ordinance partake.
I state not this from a desire to wake
Any contention in a Christian's breast;
I rather "strive for things which peace do make,"
That I my love for all saints may attest.
This course I long have deemed the wisest and the best.
CXIX.
Those thus baptized in fellowship then stood,
And as instructed, to Christ's laws attended.
Their souls reposed on His atoning blood
For full salvation, and their lives commended
The saving Truth to those who were offended
At the first preaching of the Joyful News.
What these beheld their outward rage suspended,
And now no longer dared they to accuse
The Preacher of vile motives and his work abuse.
CXX.
For some few weeks he labored there with pleasure,
And his Red brethren urged on him to take
The Pastor's office, but so grave a measure
Demanded time for its importance's sake.
"Should I be spared," he said, "I wish to make
My life a useful one where'er I live;
To Duty's call to keep my ear awake,
And as I have received to freely give,
Aiming to show I wish for no alternative."
CXXI.
With this resolve so very freely spoken
We bid the Red Man for the time Adieu,
For other scenes most clearly do betoken
That genial pleasure is not lost to view.
The lovers to their vows continued true,
And fixed upon the following New Year's day
As best for entering on their duties new,
When it was planned a Wedding jaunt to pay
In visit to Niagara, many miles away.
CXXII.
The day arrived—a bright and cheering one,
With which came Settlers on kind thoughts intent.
Then gratitude for what the Lord had done
They wished to show by love and substance spent
Upon their Pastor, whom they viewed as bent
On seeking their advantage since he came.
One, by a neighbor, had two turkeys sent,
Both fine young birds, well fed and very tame—
A gift which well might put some richer men to shame.
CXXIII.
This neighbor brought upon his own account
An ewe and ram of most superior breed.
Another had a very fair amount
Of splendid timothy and clover seed.
A fourth good maple sugar as his meed
Bestowed with blandest smiles and modest mien.
A fifth had apples, of which all agreed
They were the best they in that part had seen;
While a sixth brought savory sausages quite fresh and clean.
CXXIV.
These as an average sample of the gifts,
I mention merely with a view to show
That Gratitude is put to no mean shifts
In kindly hearts whose love keeps them aglow.
Those who have naught but water to bestow
Upon a thirsty Saint, reward will gain
From Heaven's high King, who loves to have it so.
We must from sneering at small gifts refrain.
For the poor widow's mite did great reward obtain.
CXXV.
Surprise and joy that Christian family felt
At this display of love and gratitude;
While with their friends they reverently knelt
To give God thanks, they for rich blessings sued
For the kind donors, now more strongly viewed
As brethren in the very strongest bond.
Each at the Mercy Seat their love renewed,
And heart to heart did fervently respond.
All merely worldly pleasure this is far beyond.
CXXVI.
This past, the marriage knot was quickly tied
For those young well matched couples, who appeared
In all respects well pleased and satisfied
This tended much to keep the parents cheered,
And to the friends around them more endeared
The wedding feast parta'en, they soon prepare
For their long journey, as a change they feared
In the fine weather, which might make roads bare
And the good sleighing spoil—a thing by no means rare.
CXXVII.
On that delightful jaunt I need not dwell,
Only to say that all the drive enjoyed.
When safe returned each had a tale to tell
Of the great Cataract's wonders, never void
Of thrilling interest to minds employed
In viewing Nature right. I now would haste
Lest my dear readers feel themselves annoyed,
To finish what has brought me no small taste
Of Poet's joy, and often has my heart solaced.
CXXVIII.
That earthly pleasure's not without alloy
Poets have sung and sages oft have said,
And none did e'er such pleasure long enjoy
Without being to the same conclusion led.
Our Pastor's dear Louisa took to bed
Soon after New Year's visit to the Falls;
Ere Spring came round she bowed her lovely head
To Death's stern summons! Yet sweet hope consoles
The friends for loss of her, and undue grief controls.
CXXIX.
Her death-bed was a scene I love to view
With chastened pleasure, for her faith was strong.
She to her Savior had for years been true.
And then to be with Him did daily long,
Yet not impatiently, for 'twould be wrong;
But with strong fortitude—so calm and pure
That one who saw her left the World's gay throng,
And since has had great trials to endure,
But found the Savior's aid was ever near and sure.
CVXX.
But little now remains for me to sing,
Not that I matter lack—a large supply
Exists where I got this from, and may spring
Into poetic joy if I should try
Again to tune my harp, this time laid by
At Duty's call. Our friend and spouse live where
We found them first. William and wife are nigh,
And with their children choicest comforts share.
While Joseph of the Red Men's Church takes Pastoral care.
CXXXI.
Luth and Clarissa own a good sized farm,
Well tilled, well stocked and fronting to the Lake.
Around their hearthstone boys and girls do swarm,
So that they soon a larger house must make.
Some members of the Church now sometimes take
Their turns in preaching, and the elder Luth
Shares Pastoral duty for his Master's sake.
As Deacons they have men who love the Truth,
All proving that the Church is in a state most sooth.
CXXXII.
The Lord's Forget-me-nots grow everywhere
Along the Christian's path as he pursues
His Heavenward journey. And a Father's care
Gives each sweet odors and most lovely hues.
And they throughout the darkest days diffuse
A balmy fragrance strikingly delicious!
Yet we, vain mortals, oft these sweets refuse
And choose instead that which is most pernicious,—
Thus wandering far from God, who always is propitious.